


Five Years

by Mercstouch16



Category: Army Of Two (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:55:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25194283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mercstouch16/pseuds/Mercstouch16
Summary: El Diablo spares PI and Castle, and there’s a lot of catching up to do.





	Five Years

**Author's Note:**

> AU where Castle and PI aren’t killed at the resort. I just have a hard time believing Salem hated everything to do with TWO and most likely worked with and trained many of that next generation of mercs. It’s tagged M/M for Castle and PI. Also sorry for the horrible formatting :)

“They’re in here, Diablo,” Guerras said, a hint of malicious anticipation in his voice. 

Salem remained silent, watching him unlock the heavy cell door through the narrow eye slits of his mask. His heart pounded in his chest, and he knew the next several minutes would have to be handled very carefully. Guerras’ presence was already proving troublesome and interfering with his plan. He needed to do this alone. Once the man opened the door and stepped inside, he nodded for Salem to follow. Swallowing his apprehension, Salem took a breath and entered the musty, dark cell. 

The first thing he noticed was the terror in Castle’s eyes. The younger man, tied to a chair near the middle of the room, leaned forward against the restraints binding his wrists behind his back. His hair, longer than Salem remembered, clung to his sweat drenched forehead, with some of the ends stuck under the duct tape covering his mouth. The legs of his chair carved lines through the dirt floor, showing he had fought to scoot a few feet closer to PI on the other side of the room. The sight pained him, knowing Castle was desperately trying to do what Salem trained him to: take care of his partner before anything else. 

Despite the circumstances, he was glad to see PI’s familiar, defiant glare, even if it was directed toward him. The gash splitting his brow and his bloody nose told Salem the younger man had put up a fight even after being captured and loosing his armor. Thankfully it seemed he still had some fight left in him based on the way his eyes locked onto the two cartel lieutenants. Salem knew if untied now, PI would come at both armed men without hesitation and with everything he had in him. That’s why Salem needed to get through to him while he was subdued, and if he could manage to get through to PI, Castle wouldn’t need much persuading. 

“I’m taking that one,” Guerras said in Spanish, unsheathing his knife and pointing it at PI. “He looks harder to break. That one..,” he chuckled at Castle. 

“Already looks like he’s going to cry.”

Castle mumbled protests behind the duct tape, shaking his head and flicking his eyes between them and his partner. 

“No,” Salem grunted.

Guerras scoffed. “Fine, you take him. I’m not picky.”

“I mean-,” Salem snarled, turning to stand between him and their captives. “You get neither. They’re mine.”

“The fuck are you talking about?” Guerras scoffed. “I get this is personal, Diablo, but I’ve wanted to get my hands on them ever since they came to take our city.”

“You’re right, it is personal,” Salem said through gritted teeth. “And I’ve waited five years for this. I’m doing this alone. Unless you want to join them.”

Guerras stared at him for a moment before breaking away with an incredulous chuckle and holding up his palms in defeat. “Fine. Have it your way. But if we capture anymore alive, they’re mine.”

“Just go. Catch up with Oso and keep Bautista updated on our progress on the east side of town.”

With a reluctant nod, Guerras strolled back out the door, flashing Salem a wry smile before closing it. “Have fun, Diablo.” With that, he pulled the groaning door shut behind him.

A heavy silence fell over the room, with all three men holding their breath. Salem finally released his, letting out a quiet sigh to steady himself before turning around to face them. Castle sat back stiffly in his seat, as if trying to get as far away from him as the chair would allow. His nostrils flared above the duct tape and he rapidly blinked the sweat from his eyes. PI on the other hand remained perfectly still, his breathing even and his stare ice cold. Salem knew he was terrified. That face was something men like them learned to put on a long time ago. It was a different kind of mask, but imperative to survival in their line of work and for PI well before that. 

Salem took a couple slow steps toward him, prompting more muffled protests from Castle. PI held eye contact, seeming both unamused and contemptuous at once. In any other situation Salem might have laughed at his stubbornness, but now he felt deserving of his hatred. Standing over the younger man, he knelt down on one knee in front of him. PI’s brow twitched inquisitively, and Salem could tell by the way his jaw flexed when he swallowed that the movement had scared him. Licking his lips with nervousness, Salem slowly raised his hand toward PI. The younger man pulled away, his façade cracking for an instant. He winced when Salem pinched the corner of the tape and began pulling it off his cheek. 

“Sorry,” Salem whispered, the tape tearing away the dried blood on his upper lip. 

PI looked down at him in bewilderment, and for a moment Salem felt the urge to reach up and hold his face, but refrained fearing the younger man would bite him. Still, he wanted to comfort him.

“You’re gonna be okay, kid,” he muttered hoarsely. 

“They…they didn’t hurt you too bad, did they?”

PI stilled, unnerved by his voice. “What is this? What the fuck do you want?”

Salem chuckled sadly. “Same old P.” He bowed his head, then raised his mask and glanced up at the younger man, giving him a weak, apologetic smile. “It…it’s me.”

It was hard to keep contact with PI’s horrified stare. His stiff body began to tremble, and his face turned white as he struggled to believe he was truly seeing this ghost of the man he once knew. He faintly shook his head in disbelief. 

“It’s me,” Salem repeated, quieter this time. He tried doing this gently, but time was of the essence. “Listen, I’m gonna get you out of here, but you gotta follow everything I say. I’m gonna untie you now-”

“We buried you,” PI hissed.

His tone, strained with hurt and anger made Salem wince. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t wonder if he was missed back home, and for a long time he wanted to believe he wasn’t. But the pain in PI’s voice, the sense of betrayal in his eyes told him at least one person mourned for him, and right now that hurt more than the idea of no one missing him at all. 

Salem shrugged. “Nothing to bury, kid.” Unsheathing the knife on his lower back, he sawed through the layers of duct tape binding PI’s ankles. He frowned at the blood stain soaking through the dark camouflage print on his left knee. “You hurt?”

When PI didn’t respond, he looked up to see the younger man lolling his head back, his breathing becoming out of control. 

“Hey,” Salem said, snapping his fingers at him. “Your leg. Can you walk? P!”

PI nodded, refusing to look at him. 

“Ok, good. Thank you.” 

As soon as the blade snapped through the tape around his wrists, PI lunged to get up. He stumbled, stirring up the dirt floor, and fell to his knees in front of his partner. Castle leaned forward, allowing PI to wrap his arms around his shoulders and buried his face in PI’s neck. Salem watched PI’s hands pat all over Castle’s head and back, feeling for injuries. Once satisfied he wasn’t hurt, PI pulled away, and gently removed the tape from Castle’s mouth. PI held his head in his hands, and muttered something to him under his breath, which Castle answered with a small nod, his lips pursed as he tried to hold back his tears. 

Castle’s eyes flicked toward Salem, giving him a wary glance. As if just remembering his existence, PI glared at him over his shoulder and held out his hand. 

“Give me the knife.”

Salem looked down at the knife, hesitant at first. With a small sigh, he flipped the blade around and stepped toward PI, offering him the handle. 

PI snatched it from his hand, for a moment keeping him locked in his furious, wide-eyed stare before turning back to his partner. Once Castle’s legs were free, PI struggled to his feet and limped around the chair to untie his hands. 

Castle brought his arms from around his back and ripped the remaining tape off his bruised wrists. Keeping a wary eye on Salem he came to PI’s side, and draped the smaller man’s arm over his neck to hold him up. 

Salem stepped closer. “I can get his other-”

“Don’t!” PI snarled, pointing the knife toward him. “Fucking touch me.”

Salem recoiled. “I…I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“Are you fucking kidding me!” PI screamed, trembling with rage. “You already have!”

Wincing at his words, Salem weakly held up his hands. 

“Keep it down, kid, please. We’re not safe here.”

“Yeah, no shit!” he snapped. Tears streamed down his cheeks.

“P,”Castle muttered, gently pulling him back. 

“They’re all dead! Amp, Einstein, Mason, Houston! They’re all fucking dead.” His voice broke. “And the others, they’re out there alone. Running from you!”

Salem slowly shook his head. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” he said. “This isn’t what I wanted.”

“Then what the fuck did you want?! What do you get out of all this?! Why didn’t you come back?! I…I just wanted you to come back.”

Salem squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “I guess I didn’t think I had much to come back to. They left me behind, in more ways than one. Let’s face it, it looks like TWO is doing just fine without me.”

“We aren’t,” Castle said, finally finding the strength to speak. “Probably half the original team left when you die…disappeared. Things weren’t the same. We,” he paused, glancing down at PI. “Weren’t the same.”

“I’m sorry,” Salem said hoarsely. “I know that doesn’t mean shit right now, but you’ve gotta believe I’m trying to help you.”

PI scoffed and grimaced, only half-way holding up the knife. “And why the fuck should I believe you?”

“Because we wouldn’t be having this conversation if you couldn’t,” Salem said, taking a small step closer. 

“Bautista’s men would have already ripped you to shreds back at the resort. I’m the only thing holding them back.”

“I believe you,” Castle nodded. “But how are we going to get out of here? This place is like its own military base.”

“Won’t be easy,” Salem said. “ He can barely walk so that means I need your hands free, which makes disguising you as prisoners again impossible. I can keep the grunts away but you’ve gotta stay behind me. Only follow when the coast is clear.”

He turned his attention back to PI. “ Listen, I know you hate me right now. You can do whatever you want to me when we get out, but you gotta trust me right now. I’m trying to keep you alive.”

PI glowered at him for a moment. With a heavy sigh, he lowered the knife and flipped the handle toward him. “Fine.”

“Keep it,” Salem said. He couldn’t help but smile softly, taking the gesture as a small step toward his own redemption.

“Okay,” Castle muttered. Tugging PI’s arm further across his shoulders, adjusted his hold on him. “We’re ready when you are.”


End file.
